It's Good Friday. As if that mattered to me. It's just another Friday to me. Another workday. Another day spent in pursuit of something I'm not sure of. Is this sense that it's all utterly and completely pointless unique to me?
Humankind desperately tries to find meaning, something to justify its existence. Not just its existence. Existence. Period. And so we grasp onto events. Simple incidents. And we aggrandize them. We make them bigger than they are. Over time, they grow into massive collections of fables and lies and stories that ostensibly give meaning to what is meaningless. In this context, meaningless is not intended to have a negative connotation; it is no more judgmental than saying the weather is warm.
That having been said, I sometimes wish I could believe in fairy stories and that I believed there were some reason for all this (motioning to the world around me).
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3 comments:
Okay, Mr. Kneeblood it is clear you need to make up your *own* mythic fairy story. To justify your existence and find meaning and all that. I'll join!
Ellie
Well, you're probably talking to the wrong person about this. Since Don's death, as far as I'm concerned, there really isn't much meaning to anything. All I seem to believe in anymore is existence. I look around at all the people who think they are finding meaning and thinking -- well, I don't think I'd better say what I am really thinking. In my opinion, the best we can probably hope to do is live well and try not to let the world around us drag us down too much.
Ellie, unfortunately, there is no justification for my existence; I just got here by accident 8=)
Bev, I think you're on to the key; just live well and not let the world get us down. I'm trying on both counts.
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